


the extended hand

by kinpika



Series: lyrium high [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: for a rough idea, post Here Lies the Abyss, prior to wicked eyes wicked hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12700956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “She’s asking for help, Cullen. And Basilia… for her, that’s rare. We don’t know what this could mean.”They receive a letter; Cullen receives a reminder.





	the extended hand

Cullen hears about the missive before Herald and Inquisitor alone, and that said more than any words on paper ever could. It was quiet in the hall, as he practically runs towards Leliana’s post, not quite sure if what he had heard was true to begin with. There were whispers, of course, as Fereldans were notorious gossips, and the barracks was a prime source, and yet, some part of him believed almost all of it.

Well, he could only hope it was true, even if Cullen would vehemently deny such a thing until the day he passed — the Hero of Ferelden lived, and had made contact herself. Not with him personally, with the Inquisition in general, but it was enough to make his heart lodge itself in his throat.

Early morning meant that he would be undisturbed, taking the steps two at a time. Just barely out of breath as he makes it to the top of the library, one hand on the rail, not realising his free hand had gone to make a fist. Easy, Cullen, he tells himself, trying to get that _tension_ to leave. Now’s not the time.

“Is it true?” are the first words out of his mouth. 

Leliana had a look on her face that simply said she didn’t quite know what to express, which was something Cullen didn’t see often enough. Instead, she held out the letter, a distraction for sure, but one that he ate up greedily. After the Circle, their _Hero_ had tried to reach out to him, and he was sure she had appeared fleetingly in Kirkwall a few times, scattered appearances that he could’ve dreamt. But he never returned the letters, and one day they stopped coming, just like he stopped seeing her out the corner of his eye. 

“She’s not offering her help?” Cullen can’t help how his tone ends on a question, even if they all should’ve seen this coming. Apparently, rumour had it that Hawke had at some point made contact with Amell, but that was heresy at this point in time. It hadn’t mattered then, and it didn’t matter now.

“No, she’s not.” Leliana’s response is stiff, arms going to fold over her chest. Had she expected something too? Several of the starry-eyed soldiers and mages who had joined the Inquisition had been inspired, largely in appearance of the archdemon during the attack on Haven. If there had ever been anything to summon the Hero of Ferelden from wherever she had hidden herself for so long, a possessed dragon was something they had all hoped for.

Cullen almost crushes the letter in his hands. They _should_ _have_ expected this. It was too good to be true, and Cassandra herself had said they just couldn’t _find_ her. Amell was as elusive as ever, it seemed. Slippery and easy to get away, but instead of just a Tower to worry about, they had perhaps the entirety of Thedas to contend with. “We should’ve known this would happen.” And Cullen has to say it out loud, just to remind himself who they were talking about. 

“Turn the paper over.”

Looking up, Cullen notes how Leliana seemed _concerned_ , for lack of a better word. She was frowning all the time, but at that moment, there were such deep lines in her forehead, and with the intensity she stared at the paper in his hands, it was as if she was trying to magic Amell into the room alone. 

He keeps an eye on Leliana, as he turns it over. Numbers, letters, splattered along the back. Names, Cullen can work out from the way the letters seem to form into sections alone. But deciphering wasn’t his forte, and eventually he had to give up, finally looking back up to Leliana to gauge her reaction. “What’s all this?”

“A script. We made it during the Blight, just in case we were separated. So our letters wouldn’t be intercepted.”

Cullen didn’t manage to hide his surprise at how easily Leliana seemed to give up information like _that._ At the huff, he managed to convey something that may have been interest, before simple neutrality. “And?”

Leliana still hadn’t quite unfolded her arms, if anything her grip on her forearms tightening. “It’s a location.” So they _could_ find her.

Not names, Cullen thinks, but an actual, definitive location. Reading back over the mess, he can only hand it back, hope starting to fill him. “A location is all we need. We can send out a party to find her and—”

“She’s asking for help, Cullen. And Basilia… for her, that’s rare. We don’t know what this could mean.”

“So? We’ll be able to have her help. It’ll boost morale alone.”

“I respect that she’s powerful, and with her connections now, yes, Basilia is a great ally but—”

Cullen notes how Leliana simply continues to stare at the paper like her life may have depended on it — or was it Basilia’s that did? (Amell, he tries to correct himself, but even _hearing_ her name stirs a tired old demon in him and it was too early in the morning for that). “You know more.”

“I do.”

“Are you going to share, or will this turn into a guessing game?” 

How quickly this turned into something like chess, trying to work his way through the defences to the answer. Cullen wasn’t sure he could be able to play the game in his head so distinctly, like he had heard the Iron Bull and Solas do so frequently throughout Skyhold, but he could hold his own at the very least. And right now, he truly had to.

“Cullen, I don’t know if it would be for the best.”

“If you’re not going to tell me, at least send the Inquisitor. Or the Herald. Or the both of them! Amell is an asset we should not lose.” 

“And how would you be, after not seeing her for so long?”

“I would live, just like I always have.”

Leliana levels him with a stare, and Cullen finds himself rooted to the spot. So thorough and calm, she kept her eyes on him, as if she may find one of the many cracks he was full of. “I was there. I know what happened.” 

He didn’t want to return to thinking about the Tower. It was a dark and dreary place, and no amount of curious Heralds or Inquisitors, who didn’t know just how much they overstepped, would ever make it easier to talk about. “You only know the end, not the beginning.”

“She _told_ me. She took the fall for her student, and it spiralled from there. Cullen, you know that Basilia had to kill so many of them—”

Cullen holds up a hand. No, he was not going to discuss this. And not with _her_. Leliana was a great ally, and Cullen would go so far as to consider her a friend, as he had seen her there in the Tower, bow in hand, but it was a simple _no._ “With all due respect, Leliana, you’re not the person I would like to talk to this about.” 

There’s not offence clear on Leliana’s face, and Cullen knew better. Not wishing to test the waters, he finds himself rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just—If we had her as an ally, it would benefit the Inquisition, and that’s my main concern at this very moment. If we did have to talk about… the Tower, so be it. But not now.”

Too much to take in so early in the morning. Cullen wasn’t sure what he should have focused on first, as Leliana didn’t bother to answer, taking a fresh sheet of paper in hand and setting about responding. Fear? Joy? That his head felt so heavy, as did the rest of his body, at how happy he could be at seeing that woman once more, had it not been for the dread there too. An apology is what Cullen owed her, at the very least. 

By the Maker, he didn’t even know what kind of person she was now. Those he had tapped along the coastlines of Northern Thedas spilled back some kind of comments about Crows, Wardens and the usual complaints of mages. Nothing that pinpointed exactly what Basilia Amell had been up to.

As Leliana ties the note to the foot of one of her birds, she gives him one last, long look. “I will send the usual people out to help her. Perhaps it would be best for you to… prepare yourself, for what may come.”

“Thank you, Leliana.” And Cullen turns on his heel and leaves just as the bird takes flight. 


End file.
